Half Past Nine in Norway
by Marilyn Cane
Summary: "And she's eighteen, he reminds himself. Too young to drink and too young for him. He's a horrible person and he hasn't cared before. Or at least Flynn Rider hasn't, and that's enough for him." Modern AU.


Well, here's my first story. It's more a character study than anything else, and AU. Written in segments and alternating point of views. Also, this was written at like three in the morning, so it's probably pretty weird. And a little OOC, but I had to tweak details to fit the modern setting.

It takes place in Disney World for not-so-clever irony, but Rapunzel and Flynn are just people, not characters...if that makes any sense. And the Norwegian bit...well, I'm listening to the Norwegian soundtrack. Also, I don't know the working details for Disney World's staff, so I'm partially following the rules and personalities of the New York Renaissance Faire. Apologies to those who work there.

Disclaimer: I don't own _Tangled. _Just the plot, and the occasional, useless OC that pops up to fill up space and/or plot point.

.

"Half Past Nine in Norway"

**A Step Away from Mexico.**

For the first time in a long while, Flynn Rider finds himself trapped.

No, not physically - but just like Before. Ending up stuck as a waiter in a fake Norway, unable to draw attention to himself or do anything illegal to get his usual ego trip from it feels about as bad. All those indecisive tourists and their loudmouth kids who think they're smarter than they really are. His bad tempered boss and shitty paycheck. The only good thing is the free hotel room he was thrown into as semi-permanent housing, and that had its downfalls too. Hotel rooms are only half private with the cleaning staff coming in and out every other day. He'd much rather clean himself.

Still, laying low can't trap everything. His cocky attitude is still there and he can still kill any woman's resolve with a smile and quirk of a brow. After the first two times, he's gotten good at bringing the occasional girl up to his room unnoticed. Tourists with enough of a sense of humor or the ability to judge good looks leave him above twenty percent tips because he's charmer and always will be. And he likes it that way. It's everything else he hates.

He especially hates that last half hour before closing when the only thing that keeps him from his cigarettes are those few straggling customers. In the July heat, the kitchen is suffocating as he takes back his final check of the evening. The cooks look more exhausted than he feels and all he can think to himself is, _I thought Norway was supposed to be cold. _

"Station's empty?" the head cook asks after Flynn puts down the check down on the table and pulls his tips from his pocket. He nods, not up to one of his witty comments. "You're free to go, Rider."

"Thanks," he answers, holding back a yawn. "See'ya."

He exits without waiting for a goodbye and comes up into a back alley between his restaurant and the ride, slipping his tips back in his pocket and taking out his pack of cigarettes and a lighter. The nicotine wakes him up instantly.

Suddenly a voice calls out, "Flynn!" and a smaller body collides with his own. Blonde hair tickles his cheek and Hannah pulls back, slipping her hand into his. Though he doesn't believe in keeping up anything with a girl after sleeping with her, avoiding someone who works in his area is hard to manage. She smiles brightly at him and maybe they should end up in bed together anyway. "Nate blew me off," she says, taking a cigarette out of his pack without asking. He doesn't mind. "Want to go to Italy with me? I hear there's a special or something."

"No thanks," he answers, taking a drag from his cigarette and untangling himself from her. He's not big on the touchy-feely stuff and never has been. "I work early tomorrow, so I think I'll head to my room and crash."

He doesn't miss the heartbroken look on her face, but can't bring himself to care. "Oh," she says, fishing a lighter from the pocket of her sundress. He prefers this to compared to her Aurora costume but since she's pretty much off limits he supposes it doesn't matter. "Tomorrow, maybe? Raglan Road has a discount for employees Friday nights."

On Saturdays he doesn't work until five, and getting drunk doesn't sound like such a bad idea. "Sure," he says and slips out of the alley, out into the Epcot streets so he can catch the next bus back, trying not to think about how tonight he needs to go to bed alone.

After all the shit he's been through, Flynn hates that most of all.

.

**Adjustment.**

Rapunzel's phone goes off at eleven exactly, and she picks it up before the first ring finishes.

"Hi, Mamma!" she says cheerfully, pulling off her costume shoes, leaving her in her underclothes. As usual, she stripped out of her Alice dress quickly, overheated after a day in the sun. "Hi, Daddy!"

"_Hi, Rapunzel,_" comes her dad's loud voice from the other end, overlapping her mom's softer one. Every night, without fail, they call her on speakerphone to make sure their little girl is okay and even after a year just hearing them say her name can bring a smile to her face. Her dad asks, "_How was your day, __sweetie_?"

All the heat and weariness evaporates from inside her and she lies down on her bed, feeling comforted and loved. "It was great!" she answers, smiling so big her cheeks hurt. In the room next door, the television turns on, sound muffled through the wall and she hears the person groan. She thinks her neighbor is a boy, but she can't be sure. Though they live only a door away from each other, she's never seen him - or her, maybe. "A boy told me I was a good dancer today, and a little girl said I was the prettiest Alice she'd ever seen."

Her mom laughs and it sounds like hers. "_Of course you are, Rapunzel_," she says. "_Except that you're the most beautiful girl in the world, not just the prettiest Alice in the park_."

Though her cheeks flush, it isn't out of exasperation like most girls her age. Sometimes it feels like her parents are trying to make up for seventeen years of lost compliments, but the sincerity is so touching that she doesn't mind. "Thanks, Mom," she says. "So when're you coming down again?"

"_The weekend after next_," her father answers. "_I'm sorry it can't be sooner. __We'll meet with you around one if our plane is on time._"

"Okay!"

"_And we have a present for __you_!" her mother adds, followed by the sound of her hand slapping over her mouth. "_Oh, I wasn't supposed to tell you that. Sorry, __Rapunzel, I wanted it to be a surprise._"

"I'll act shocked anyway." Suddenly she yawns and realizes exactly how exhausted she is. No reading for her tonight, apparently.

"_You should have told us you were tired,_" says her dad, a hint of worry in his voice. "_We'll call you tomorrow morning, Rapunzel. I love you, darling._"

"_I love you too,_" says her mom.

And in her tired state, Rapunzel reflexively answers, "I love you more_._"

Despite herself, when they hang up and she doesn't hear the familiar _and I love you __most_, the comfort falls out of her and she goes to bed feeling hollow.

.

**Empty Headed.**

On the way Downtown, Flynn's shoulder collides with someone else's as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

"Sorry," he mumbles, not taking a look at who it is and going on anyway. He has a text from one of his coworkers, asking to switch shifts tomorrow, though it takes him a moment to figure this out. He'll answer that -

"Wait!"

He turns around and an Alice is standing there, holding out a ten to him. "I think you dropped this," she says.

He pulls his tips from his pocket and sees that yes, some of it's missing. "Thanks," he says, taking it from her small hand and putting it back, wondering how he managed to drop it in the first place. Flynn Rider steals money, not loses it. This particular Alice looks young, probably a college student, a better fit than most of the actresses. Cute, too, for a blonde.

"You're welcome," she says with a big smile on her face before she turns and scurries off. He shakes his head, wondering where his mind's gone today, and head's into the bar.

By the time he makes it back to his apartment later that night, lips locked with another girl's, he's already forgotten her.

.

**Across the World.**

Rapunzel doesn't work come nighttime, her shift ending not long after the sun goes down, and she spends that time wandering the parks for free, not switching to a new one until she'd seen it all. On Monday she night she begins the country circuit in Epcot and at nine she finds herself in Norway.

"You look a little lost," says a voice from behind her. She turns around to see a familiar man in a waiter's uniform, smirk on his face. He takes a step forward and surveys her. "You're that Alice, right?"

She nods, surprised he recognizes her without the costume on. "Yeah," she answers, suddenly self conscious because she isn't used to talking to boys. "And you're that...guy from Friday?"

He discreetly snubs out his cigarette against the brick wall of the Viking building and throws into the garbage can next to him. "Flynn Rider," he says, and sticks out his hand. She recognizes the name from the girls in the dressing room and feels her cheeks burn. He quirks a brow, and she quickly tries to cover it up.

"Rapunzel Corona," she answers, shaking his hand. He snickers.

"Rapunzel?" he says and her face goes redder. By this point, she's used to this reaction. "You're kidding me, right?"

"No."

"My condolences."

An awkward silence follows, or at least it feels for her. After a moment, she asks, "So, Flynn Rider, are you off for the night?"

"Yeah," he answers, flicking some hair from his face. "Thank fucking God for it too."

She blinks owlishly. "If you don't like it, why work here?" He shrugs and his smirk is suddenly a frown. "Well, anyway, do you want to walk around with me?" She's lonely and bored and maybe asking a complete stranger isn't too bad of an idea.

Again, he shrugs. "Not like I have anything better to do. Are we going to China or Mexico, blondie?"

Though it takes a bit of effort, she refrains from squeaking in happiness. She hasn't been able to walk around with another person yet. "China," she says and she turns, him falling into step with her. He's taller than her, but that isn't saying much. "So, why do you work in Norway?"

Instead of answering, he asks, "Why are you Alice?"

"The casting direction said I look really young, so I'd be perfect," she says as they cross over to the next country. She wishes going across the world was this easy in real life. "I auditioned in May. So why Norway?"

"I accidently let slip in the job interview that I speak Norwegian."

"You speak _Norwegian_?"

"_Er det virkelig så rart_?" he says. "The costumers love it."

"What did you say?" she asks, curious. She's never heard someone speak a different language before, except in passing.

"Is that so weird," he translates. Now that the sun is down, there aren't many people on the streets and all the restaurants look crowded. "Have you eaten yet, blondie?"

"No," she answers. "I was going to stop in Japan for sushi. Have you?"

He shakes his head and something passes over his face that she can't name.

Then he says, "Japanese food's pretty good, I guess."

.

**Aimless. **

Flynn has off on Wednesdays. Normally he spends his time out in Orlando or somewhere further, but after a third sleepless night in a row, he decides to stick somewhere closer to the hotel. Somewhere _in _the hotel would be preferable, but he doesn't like using the pool until after at least eight and staying in his room will drive him crazy. So instead he heads out to Magic Kingdom.

Last time he came to Disney World he was ten and it was with the other - Before. He hasn't been to Disney World since Before and he's not surprised to see how much Magic Kingdom has changed. What does surprise him, though, is seeing Blondie in her Alice costume, taking to a boy with a camera in one hand and his little brother's hand in the other. It's funny how oblivious she is to his flirting, almost as funny as how much the kid sucks at it.

And he's tired and feeling spiteful today, so he walks over the them and puts on his sexiest smolder. "Hey, Alice," he says, amused by how much her face brightens, eyes sliding away from the idiot kid. Said idiot kid looks like he's been slapped. Flynn is used to this. "How's your day been?"

He knows he shouldn't be doing this. On Monday he found out she was only eighteen, making him a total eight years older than her, and decided she wasn't going to end up as one of his conquests. Even if she was impressed that he could speak Norwegian. Traditionally, that wasn't a good language for attracting women. If only he'd bothered to learn French or Italian or something.

Blondie looks back at the boy and says, "It was really nice meeting you, Jack. And you too, Alan."

"Oh," answers Jack, dejected. "Nice meeting you too."

The younger brother waves at her with a sticky hand. "Bye, Alice!"

She skips over, little girl-like and in character. "Hi, Flynn," she says, arms behind her back as she comes to a stop in front of him. "Why aren't you in Norway?"

As he runs his fingers through his hair, he answers, "Wednesdays and Sundays are the days I can relax and do nothing."

"You have off Sundays, too?" she says, clapping her hands together. "We should meet up!"

He gives her a sardonic smile. "Sure, blondie."

Behind him comes the delighted screams of one of the many roller coasters. He hasn't been on one of those since Before, too. "Um, I don't have my on me. Do you have yours?"

"Always do." He finishes it out of his pocket and hands it to her. Though she doesn't know this, she'll be his only contact besides his manager. Everyone else he keeps in his head, memorized. All his past dates and other employers and buyers and maybe he should add a Middle to his Before and After split. Suddenly something dawns on him and even if he hates admitting any faults, he adds, "Do mind putting your own name in? I don't know how to spell Rapunzel."

"It's phonetic," she says, but does anyway. He already knows this. When she hands it back, he sees she put a heart next to her name. "Text me so I get yours."

Auto-correct has his name already, so he doesn't worry about looking like an idiot when he sends the text. "Thanks," she says. "Now, I have to go. See you Sunday, Flynn!"

Flynn hasn't hung out with some just as friends in a long time. He isn't sure how he feels about this.

.

**Growing in Reverse.**

"You've never been on a roller coaster before?"

Explaining why will take too long, so Rapunzel answers, "No," and wants that to be the end of it. She doesn't like getting reminded of her solitude. It's the reason she decided to work here after all, why she wanted to go to a big college - she needed to make up for all of the interaction she missed.

"Then you're coming with me."

And yet somehow, surrounded by people, the only one she's reached out too is the cocky, egotistical Flynn Rider. She's okay with that. "Okay," she says, nervous and excited at the same time. She'll never get anything done without trying. "Which one?"

He looks at her in a way that just screams mischief. Her mom gets the same look when she and Rapunzel pick the movie on Friday nights. "Say, blondie, you afraid of the dark?" he asks.

"Of course not!"

He laughs, a sound that she likes. A lot. "Good," he says with another one of his smirks. Lindsay, a girl who played Wendy, said you could never trust a guy who smirks, but Rapunzel disagrees. Flynn smirks a lot, but he's still nice to her. "We're going to Space Mountain, blondie. C'mon, it's this way."

"I know where it is," she says, taking another lick of vanilla ice cream. "I _do _work here, remember?"

"And yet never been on a roller coaster." She likes that he doesn't sound judgmental, though it does bother her how rarely he ever looks her in the eye - or at her in general. He does this with other people too, she's noticed, but Rapunzel notices a lot of things. And it seems like he does, too. There are a bunch of things she likes about Flynn because Lindsay is wrong, she thinks. "I mean, have you ever been on a ride before?"

"No," she answers and looks around her as she walks. Even though she works here, she pays attention to the people more than the scenery because that's her job, but the place really is pretty. She read somewhere that Magic Kingdom is based on the Chicago World Fair from 1893, but that was so long ago that she can't remember what book it was. "It's no fun going on your own."

"Blondie, you have no childhood," he says. He's teasing, but right. "Okay, since you've never been on one, then we won't sit in the front seat. You have your pass?"

She keeps it around her neck, tucked in her shirt even if the plastic is uncomfortable against her bare skin. "Yeah," she answers, pulling out for a second before putting it back. It's uncomfortable, sure, but she likes knowing that it's safe. She's so used to keeping things close to her that she doesn't know how to part.

"Good," he says, stepping around a man three times his size. She hadn't noticed until a few hours ago, but Flynn is smaller than a lot of the other guys she's seen. Thinner, shorter. When she brought it up earlier, he insisted that he's average before quickly changing the subject.

Suddenly something dawns on her. "Hey, Flynn," she asks, "why didn't we just used our passes to get a discount on the food?"

He shrugs. "Hadn't thought of it."

For some reason this unsettles her, but by the time their ride begins, she's too blown away to think about it for a long, long time.

.

**Norway's Nice This Time of Year.**

Blondie shows up in Norway the next day without texting him first and for a reason he can't place, he doesn't mind. His day's been awful and that last half hour before closing time is the worst. Seeing a girl who doesn't want to bang him makes the couple making out in their booth and leaving no tip at all matters less even if she is eight years younger. He reminds himself that age doesn't count much for anything here, but he doesn't shake himself of it entirely. She scans the room first, sits in his station, and waves. Hannah sees this too.

Flynn doesn't miss the jealousy that passes over her face. Her boyfriend hates him for a reason. Most boyfriends do.

"Hey," he says, going over to her after he delivers a young couple and their ten year old their food. "I thought you were starting Animal Kingdom tonight."

"I decided to do it tomorrow," she answers with a shrug. "I wanted a Norwegian pastry all the sudden. That'll take under half an hour to eat, right?"

"It should."

"Any suggestions, Flynn Rider?"

"This'll sound bat - um, insane, but the Traditional Rice Cream."

"That doesn't sound insane."

The fact that someone agrees on his weird taste in food surprises him. "You get a soda for free," he says.

Almost shyly, she says, "Any suggestions on that too?"

Unfortunately, he can't spend a long time on her, so he doesn't have the opportunity to ask why. "Coke," he answers. "I'll be back in a sec with your order."

She smiles happily. "Okay. Thanks."

He disappears and gives the order to Nate, the cook. There's so little time that he has no one else to serve, so he waits. When the cook comes back, he asks, "Is she your girlfriend?"

Great. Under a week and that assumption's already formed. "No," he answers, taking the plate and cup in his hands. "Just a friend."

"Flynn Rider has a friend?" he says, mocking. He's Hannah's bastard of the boyfriend, and considering how often he blows her off, he has no real right to Flynn unlike most of the significant others he makes angry. He leaves without answering.

When he gets back, Hannah's talking to Blondie with a type of familiarity, though she looks about ready to kill her. Blondie, on the other hand, seems perfectly content. Either she can act as more than just a cute little girl (it doesn't take a genius to see that's the real reason she was shoved as Alice) or she can't recognize hatred. That's not a good thing.

"Isn't she a little old for you to be entertaining, Aurora?" he asks, setting the food down in front of Blondie.

"Thanks, Flynn!" she says, voice someone cut off by Aurora answering, "She's still a customer, darling. So, Rapunzel, where did you say you were living again?"

She has a point and he doesn't know why he cares. Blondie's just another girl. She says, "The Polynesian Resort."

"Oh my goodness!" Considering how good of an actress Hannah is, Flynn can't chalk this up as bad emotion control. "Did you know Flynn lives there too?"

Blondie blinks owlishly. God, her eyes are so damn big. And green. Even though she's not brunette, green eyes happen to be another trait he likes which isn't good for her. Not that he cares, of course. Flynn Rider doesn't make connections with people. Rather than scowl, he smirks and uses a toned down smolder. "Living situations haven't come up in conversation," he says. "What a coincidence. The family with the kid's leaving. Aren't you supposed to be saying goodbye?"

"You wound me, Flynn."

"Sorry about that." He sounds uncaring, but by tomorrow she'll be hanging on his arm again. All the girls do that, which used to be a good thing. Half the time during After, that was how he got a roof over his head. "Talk to you later, Aurora."

She frowns before putting back on her smile, walking breezily past him. People are too fucking complicated and dishonest and maybe this is why he likes Blondie - she's straightforward and he can respect that. Even if she is eighteen. "Thanks for suggesting this," she says to him, obviously missing what the exchange really meant. Everyone in his station is gone except her and he can stand by her without interruption as the busboy cleans off the family's table. "What room are you?"

"Five o' six," he answers. Enough girls know his room number that she's just another one in the dozen or so he's slept with, except without the sex. Nothing special. "You?"

"Five o' eight."

What are the fucking odds, he thinks, but doesn't say this. Instead he says, "How haven't we known this yet?"

She shrugs the exact way he does which means in this less-than-a-week, they've already spent too much time together. He should drop her and leave like he does with everyone else. Flynn Rider doesn't have friends. "I guess we get in a different times," she says. "I mean, I usually leave before you. Are you going to a bar tonight?"

"No."

"Want to go to Animal Kingdom to me?"

He should say no. "Sure."

And she's eighteen, he reminds himself. Too young to drink and too young for him and probably a virgin too. He's a horrible person and he hasn't cared before.

Or at least Flynn Rider hasn't, and that's enough for him.

.

**Nightly. **

Rapunzel loves her parents. Seventeen years apart couldn't change that.

"_Two days until we come to see you_," her mom says Thursday night as she lays on her bed in a camisole and shorts. Her flip-flops lay forgotten in the corner of her room. She just returned from therapy and she doesn't like how long it takes to go from Magic Kingdom out into Orlando. "_And from the weather report, we should be able to leave on time._"

"_I checked for the whole east __coast_," her dad adds. "_How was your day, __Rapunzel_?"

Her parents like saying her name as much as she likes hearing them say it. "It rained," she answers. "And it's still raining, so the park wasn't as full as usual. But at least we got more people than Epcot."

"_Oh, so you saw Flynn again __today_?" her mom asks, and Rapunzel can hear her smile. She's already told her parents everything.

"No," she says, running her fingers through her hair. "But I texted him a lot on the bus."

"_Will we get to meet him_?"

"I haven't asked yet, Mamma. I will tomorrow."

"_Good_," her mom says. "_We want to meet your friends, Rapunzel._ _And you have told me yet - is he cute_?"

"Mom!"

"_Phaedra_!"

She laughs. "_I'm just kidding, sweetie. We'll talk to you tomorrow. I love you._"

"_I love you too._"

"Love you," she says because she's not tired enough to slip into old habits.

They say goodbye, and hang up. Rapunzel loves her parents.

.

**Weak. **

Flynn meets up with Blondie Friday night at the Pizzafari and buys them food with cash because he can't keep his fingers to himself. Besides, the guy looked rich anyway and he probably wouldn't notice a couple of twenties missing. When he sits down, Blondie has her knees pulled up and sketchpad resting there, a pencil moving across the page.

"What're you drawing?" he asks, sliding her food in front of her. Buying dinner for her again probably isn't a good idea, but hoarding all the money he pickpockets is worse and she doesn't seem to be connecting it to anything anyway.

"Thanks," she says, taking a sip of her soda. "And you."

He coughs slightly. "What?"

"You," she repeats. "I've drawn a lot of people in the park, but I haven't drawn you yet."

"Just get my nose right," he answers. She looks up from the paper, confused. "I dated an artist once," he says and wondering why he bothers because he doesn't tell _anyone _anything. "Great at drawing and all, but couldn't get my nose right. Horrible, really. Couldn't capture my impeccable good looks at all."

Blondie giggles and adds another line. "Is this good?" she asks and turns her sketch pad around, facing him. "Sorry, it's a draft."

He stares. After a moment, he says, "Jesus, blondie. I actually look like me. Where you'd learn to draw like that?"

"Oh, um, I've had a lot of practice." Her cheeks are flushed, but she's only eighteen, he reminds himself. Quickly, she adds, "Anyway, I meant to ask you - what're you doing Sunday, Flynn?"

"Nothing," he answers. The first bite of pizza burns the roof of his mouth. "Why?"

"My parents are coming up," she says, looking down at the sketchpad again. He knows where this is going, and it isn't in a good direction. "They want to meet my friends, so I said I'd ask you."

It hadn't occurred to him that Blondie would tell her parents anything about him. Since he was usually just the guy girls slept with, or other guys went and got drunk with (which usually results in Flynn taking something because he can't help it), he wasn't normally mentioned to the folks, which he's okay with. "I don't know how thrilled they'd be to see their daughter hanging out with at twenty-six-old," he says rather than giving an outright no.

"Most people here are older than me," she points out. "Besides, you're nice. My parents like nice people."

Nice isn't normally a word used to describe him. Charmer, sarcastic, smug bastard, sexy, sure, but not nice. He doesn't plan on being nice because he doesn't need to. A few tables down a little girl drops her ice creams and breaks out crying.

"I -"

"Please?"

Oh god, not the puppy dog face. Her big green eyes go bigger and her bottom lip quivers and never, ever falls for this but just those _eyes. _With a sigh, he relents. "Sure," he says and she cheers loudly.

Damn that fucking age gap.

.

**Wonderland.**

Her parents find her at one in the afternoon. They look exhausted and the moment she's free, she pulls them behind one of the restaurants where the occasional actor hides when the sun gets too hot. For a moment they just hold each other and say nothing.

"The pictures don't do you justice, Rapunzel," her mother says after they put away, putting a hand to her cheek. "You make such a cute little Alice."

"Thanks, Mamma," she says and hugs her again. "I thought your plane was going to be delayed."

"So were we." Her dad kisses the top of her head. A year's gone by, she's come to terms with her past, but she's still not used to being loved like this. "But we've made it. Our room number is eleven-twenty-six. We checked it before we came."

"I'll come up to see you later," she says. Her mom's wearing a sundress and sandals and Rapunzel wishes she could look that effortlessly pretty all the time too. "I want to bring you out to eat later. I get an employee's discount everywhere."

"Give us a place and time and we'll make a reservation," her mom says.

"Um, the only place I know is Norway," she answers. "I usually eat in my room or at a pizza place. But I get off at eight if you want to find somewhere of us."

"Why don't we just eat in Norway?"

"Flynn works there," she says and looked down at her shoes, oddly embarrassed, "and I don't want you to meet him until tomorrow. So, no Epcot in general, okay?"

"We'll look around here," her father says after exchanging a look with her mom.

She gives them each another hug. "I have to go," she says. "Bye, Mamma. Bye, Daddy."

They exchange their _I love you_s. She'll never get sick of hearing it.

.

**Switch.**

Flynn tells himself he isn't trying any harder to look good even after he spends five minutes in front of the bathroom's full length mirror. He has on a blue button down left open with a white shirt underneath and a pair of jeans. He looks nicer than usual. Ra - Blondie isn't his girlfriend and that's not why he's meeting her parents. This is pointless.

Half an hour later he finds himself at the meeting place in MGM Studios. Blondie spots him before he can spot them, which is probably a good thing.

"Flynn!" she calls, waving to him to get his attention. Not that she needs to with her blonde hair shining in the midday sun. He waves back to let her know he sees and heads over.

(And he isn't nervous of course because Flynn Rider is never nervous even if -)

"Mom, Dad," she says, grabbing his arm and pulling him to her side. "This is Flynn Rider. Flynn, meet my mom and dad."

Blondie's the picture of her mom except for the hair. "Hi," he says, accepting the hands held out to him. "How are you, Mr. and Mrs. Corona?"

"Just Phaedra's fine," her mom says, shooting her daughter a knowing look. Flynn might not meet parents often, but he still knows how to charm them.

"And you can call me Henry," her dad added. "And we're good. You?"

Already on a first name basis. Great. "Well, I'm awake," he answers, causing the other man to laugh. He doesn't mention that he has a headache pounding behind his eyes. Sooner or later he needs to find a way to get his hands on some sleeping pills. "So what did you want to do, bl - Rapunzel?"

Surprise flits across her face for a moment before she says, "Oh...well, I was thinking of seeing a show."

"Okay," he says. She smiles brightly. It seems like Blondie is always smiling, which is better than most girls. She's a ray of sunshine all of her own.

As he looks between her and her mother, he thinks his preferences might have changed.

.

**The Difference.**

Rapunzel dreams about the house and the woman every night. She hears the creak of the floorboards and the air conditioning on summer nights. Sometimes she even hears the lullaby and feels the warm hand in her hair. When she wakes up, she wants to cry. She wants to banish those seventeen years from her memory forever, the good and the bad together.

But these are just dreams. Nightmares are another thing all together, and rare. On Wednesday she wakes up around one in the morning, shaking and crying. Her parents are only a few floors up, not leaving until Friday night. A phone call away. But as she reaches out to grab her cell phone from her nightstand, she hesitates. They'll be asleep by now and she doesn't want to wake them. In the room over, she hears the sound of the television, muffled through the walls. Without real thought, she stands and heads out of the room, hugging her stuffed animal in her arms.

Flynn opens up after her first knock. His hair is ruffled and he's shirtless. She's never seen a boy shirtless before, but somehow just knows that...wow. Just wow. "Rapunzel?" he says, looking at her through tired eyes. She realizes she woke up and instantly feels bad. "What - are you crying?"

She looks down at her bare feet. Before last year, she never wore shoes. "Can I come in?" she asks. He moves aside and she enters. Except for his unmade bed, his room is spotless. "Sorry," she says.

"Don't worry about it." He shuts the door behind her and heads to the bed, motioning for her to follow. She sits next to him and wipes her eyes. "What's wrong, blondie?"

She looks around his room. Instead of answering, she says, "Do we have different cleaning ladies or something? Your room like a thousand times cleaner than mine."

His frown surprises her. In his half awake state he doesn't look as confident and snarky as he does during the day. "No," he says before yawning into his elbow. "Sorry, I'm just - nevermind. No, we don't. I guess I'm just used to being neat. The only thing she does is clean the sheets." His eyes settle on the stuffed animal. "What's that?"

"Oh." She feels childish for a moment, then decides she doesn't care. "My mom and dad gave him to me as a present. I named him Pascal."

He laughs. She likes it better than his normal snicker. "What sort of name is Pascal for a frog?"

"He's a chameleon."

"Nuance."

Already she feels better. She likes having a friend. "I think it makes my parents happy to give me things like stuffed animals, or watch animated movies with me."

"Still treat you like a little kid?" he asks.

She hasn't told this to anyone yet, except her therapist, so she feels weird when she says, "No. They never had a chance to until last year. I, um, didn't find my parents until I was seventeen. Actually, until the day _after _my seventeenth birthday." He doesn't say anything, but she knows he's listening. She looks down at Pascal. It really is a weird name for a lizard. "When I was a baby, I was kidnapped and grew up calling someone else my mom. She kept me locked up in her house all day, which was on a farm so we weren't near anyone else, and told me I was sickly so I could never go outside.

"Then, the day before my seventeenth birthday, she went out to get me a present and while she was gone, I tipped over a candle. The house went up in flames. I couldn't think of what else to do, so I called the police. I knew the nine one one thing from TV, you know? Then I hit my head on the corner of the dining room table and next I knew, I was in the hospital, Gothel was arrested, and my real parents were contacted. Or at least that's the cliffnotes version. That's why I've never been on a roller coaster."

Flynn lies down, eyes focused on the ceiling, and sighs. "Did you have a nightmare?" he asks.

"Yeah," she says, and lies down next to him. "And thank you. I haven't - well, I guess I've been scared to tell people."

A short silence falls. Then,

"When I was ten, my new foster family made sure every kid - there were ten of us - had our individual 'space' spotless by a certain time or we'd -" He pauses. "Eh, old habits die hard, right?"

"Do you still have nightmares?" she says, voice quiet.

"Sometimes."

Without real thought, she stretches down her hand and finds his. Their fingers intertwine.

When she wakes up in the morning, she's tucked up against his side, his arm slung over her shoulders.

.

**Caught Up in the Details. **

_What makes her so __different_?

_She's too young. Shut up. Why am I here?_

_Like fuck if I know. You aren't supposed to be._

_Don't - _

"Aw, off to see your girlfriend again, Flynn?"

He turns around as he lights his cigarette and finds himself face to face with Hannah. "Are you jealous, baby?" He smirks and leans against the wall, blowing smoke into the warm July air.

She rolls her eyes. "Like I have reason to be jealous of _her_," she answers.

"She's not my girlfriend," he says.

"I don't believe you."

"Well, it's the truth."

"Prove it."

So he does the only thing he can think of and kisses her. Her boyfriend can come out any second, his cigarette is burning uselessly between his fingers, and he just spent three nights ago with Rap - Blondie curled up next to him.

(And she can't be Rapunzel, not ever, and he needs this distance to last)

When he pulls back, leaving her hanging, he says, "I don't cheat. Proof enough for you?"

She nods dumbly and he leaves without saying goodbye. He and Blondie aren't dating and they're just friends and won't go past that and making out with Hannah in an alley means absolutely nothing. So why does he feel so dirty?

_Because we don't mix._

_Don't hurt Rapunzel._

_If I promise not to, will you go away?_

_Yeah. _

_I promise I won't hurt Blondie._

Eugene retreats into hiding and Flynn walks home alone, tension leaving his shoulders.

.

**Kingdom Dance.**

On Sunday it's drizzling and grey, but they go down to the beach anyway. It's a long bus ride, but after much cajoling, Rapunzel convinces Flynn to come along. The place is almost deserted and the music that spills from the beach house is lonely. When she takes his hand, he doesn't pull away.

"I've never danced with someone before," she tells him.

"I have," he answers.

After a while, she puts her head against his shoulder and the movement stops.

.

**It's the Small Things. **

Flynn meets up with Blondie outside the restaurant after work.

"What's something you've never seen before?" he asks her as they pass into Mexico. The order these countries are in will forever confuse him. "Something accessible to this area, I mean."

"Fireworks," she says immediately. "Or, at least not up close. I'm always out of work by that point and I don't know, it's another sort of thing where I don't want to see you alone.

"When I was a kid, my town held what I later found out was a block festival in the beginning of August. They were shot over the lake and I could see all of them on my window. Every year, without fail. It was always on my birthday, too."

Even though he tries not to, he feels bad for her. In the foster system he went through hell, but he could always leave in the end. By the time he ran away for good, he'd been able to experience almost everything he wanted. "They shoot fireworks at the beach in Magic Kingdom every night," he says and lets her take his hand. In a way, he feels he should tell her something about himself too, but he can't bring himself to. He's told her enough already. "When's your birthday?"

"August fourth," she answers. The breeze tussles her hair and it floats around her. Her hair goes down to waist and in the artificial lighting of Mexico, it really does turn her into a ray of sunshine.

"Then on August fourth I'm bringing you to see the fireworks." She smiles and walks a little closer to him. In his head, he hears Hannah's _I don't believe you _echo back to him.

.

**Secrets. **

She and Flynn sit next to each other on her bed, backs to the headstand, trying to decide what movie to get off of pay per view. The weather since Sunday has been insane and hell finally broke loose. The parks closed early because of thunderstorms, but she can't find it in her to mind.

After taking a bite of her room service sandwich, she asks, "How long were you in the foster system?"

His hand stills halfway to the bag of chips. She's seen this before, quick breaks in his demeanor. But then it's over a moment later and he answers, "From around the age of one to fifteen."

"Were you adopted?"

"Something like that." There's a pause, his brows crease and for second it looks like he's arguing with someone. Then he adds, "Sorry, blondie. My childhood and I aren't on the best terms."

"Were all the family as bad as the one that made you clean?" She probably shouldn't be prying, but she's never had a friend to exchange information with before. And she never expected to find someone who could understand what she went through, at least a little. Her therapist called it emotional and mental abuse.

"Most of them," he answers, but doesn't elaborate.

"Hey, Flynn?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you a pickpocket?"

Flynn's eyes snap from the screen to her, eyes wide. "What, where you'd you get that idea?" he asks.

She takes her hair in hands, a nervous habit, and looks away from him. He rarely looks directly at her. "Well," she says, trying to find words to explain without sounding like an idiot, "you always have fifties or twenties right after you get your tips and I've _seen _you count those - you normally get like ones, or fives, or tens. And you basically said that you ran away at fifteen since you weren't adopted and I don't know, maybe this is just my sheltered mind acting up or something, but the easiest way to live seems like -"

"Yeah," he says quietly, but it shuts her up anyway. He's suddenly very interested in a loose thread of on his pants. "I ran away. The last family...well, they were pretty good to me but then Tuva - that was my foster mom - got pregnant with a kid of her own just before she and Peter were going to officially adopt me. The moment I heard the pregnancy test came out with a positive I ran. I couldn't stand the thought of being given to another family. So I've been stealing ever since. Not so much anymore though. I can't seem to stop, though."

"Does anyone else know?" she asks and he shakes his head, sitting playing with that loose thread. "I won't tell anyone."

He looks at her, confused. "Why?"

With a shrug and a small smile, she answers, "Because I don't want to, Flynn."

They watch a movie called _Sandlot _and when he leaves several hours later, she kisses his cheek as goodbye.

.

**Schism.**

He stands in an empty house where all the doors lock behind him. There's a layer of dust on everything and the bed is messy. Somewhere downstairs, the faucet is running and people are screaming but the house is empty. There's a panic building.

how does it feel, Rider, with nowhere to run.

He throws himself against the plywood door.

that's all you're good for, isn't it.

shut up.

no need to get defensive now.

go away.

are you scared.

go away. shut up.

There's a twelve-year-old's skeleton rising from the floor.

having trouble now, Rider.

He throws himself against the plywood door.

as useless are you've always been. you can't break these locks.

let me go.

or are you even Rider at all, now.

don't hit me.

He's standing outside, cold and alone with no skills at all and he needs money to get food for the next day.

This is the only thing he can think of.

There's screaming in the air.

He stands across from himself.

you have to stop running, Flynn.

you're supposed to be dead.

but I don't want to die anymore, Flynn.

can both of you go away.

she likes him better than she likes you, Rider.

you're supposed to be dead, Eugene.

The world shatters.

(When Flynn wakes up, the alarm is ringing and he doesn't know who he is. From experience, he knows this isn't a good thing.)

.

**Breaking Point.**

It's ten Friday night and the pool is empty. Rapunzel and Flynn stand in the shallow end, leaning against the edge and sipping strawberry daiquries (virgin for her, of course) through brightly colored straws.

"I couldn't read until I ten," she says after half an hour of discussing her upcoming college career. The only thing she's nervous about is math. "I remember feeling so proud of myself when I got through the first _Chronicles of Narnia _book."

"I read that when I was thirteen," he says. "Did you - oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me!"

The downpour begins without warning and even though they're in the pool, they won't be allowed for long. He pulls himself out and then helps her and their towels are soaked. They throw those into the laundry shoot and the drinks into the garbage can and despite the cold of the air conditioning in the lobby, she's laughing.

"Sorry, Al," Flynn calls to the doorman as the hurry to the elevator. Al shakes his head in exasperation. Rapunzel clings to Flynn as they wait for the elevator, trying to retain a little warmth.

The elevator is even colder and waiting for those five floors takes forever. He gets his key from his pocket and pulls her into the room after him. "Did the weather report say anything about rain, Rapunzel?" he asks as he turns off the air conditioning and grabs some random outfit from his top drawer.

"You think I check?" she says and pulls her clothes out from her bag. "Do you mind if I change here, Flynn?"

"Eugene."

The name takes her off guard. "What?"

"My name," he says. "It's Eugene Fitzherbert. Flynn is - yeah, sure. Why would I care?" Before she ask, he slips into the bathroom and shuts the door. Since she doesn't know what to do, she changes. "You finished?" he says, voice clear even though the door.

Rapunzel pushes it open instead of answering. He has a look on his face that her grandma describes as 'kicked kitty' and it's almost painful to look at. "Eugene Fitzherbert?" she asks, quirking one eyebrow, something she's picked up from him.

"Look, I -" He sighs and leans against the bathroom doorway. "By the time I ran away, I'd been to a lot of places and a name like Eugene Fitzherbert isn't exactly common. So I changed it. I got my license at sixteen and by that point I knew enough about theft and forgery that I just made up my own identity. Surprisingly easy before Nine Eleven if you knew the right people."

She's at a loss for words, which doesn't happen often. He says, "Please don't tell anyone. I - well, it's a long story, but it's easier being Flynn Rider. I shouldn't have told you."

Since she doesn't know what else to say, she asks, "How'd you decide on the name Flynn Rider?" and takes his hand, gently pulling him over to the bed.

"You know how you couldn't read until you were ten?" he says. Bewildered, she nods. "Yeah, well I'm dyslexic.

"When I was staying with one of the nicer foster families - I must've been about eleven - my foster father found out and there was this younger kid their too, their biological son. His wife used to read the kid every night and he said that reading out loud would help, so he gave me this book called _The Tales of Flynnagan Rider_ to read to his son." He takes a shaky breath, but doesn't look like he's going to cry, which is good. Rapunzel doesn't know how to comfort a person yet.

"It was like a mix between _Peter Pan_ and _Robin Hood_, written in the early Nineteen Hundreds, I think. So it was an easy read and pretty interesting too. I guess...I don't know. Flynnagan Rider was the richest man in the world, could go anywhere and do anything and for a poor kid like me with no talents, it sounded like a dream. Still does, sort of."

The silence that follows is suffocating, but this is a little hard to take in. "I won't tell anyone. And for the record," she says eventually, "I like Eugene Fitzherbert _much_ better than Flynnagan Rider."

He looks directly at her and smiles sadly. "That makes one of us, Rapunzel," he says.

His eyes drift back to the ceiling and her heart breaks.

.

**Disaster. **

Flynn doesn't like it when Eugene breaks through. He likes it even less when he lets it happen. So it's no surprise that he ends up in Hannah's bed two nights after he tells Rapun - Blondie about Before and After. In his half-drunk state, Hannah's hair is a few inches longer, her blue eyes turn green, and he has to bite the inside his cheek to stop from moaning his girl's name.

Later the next morning, when he's back in his room taking a shower and Advil for the hangover, he's forced to admit that he's falling hard for an eighteen-year-old. He's so fucked.

And maybe he hates himself, too. Just a little.

.

**Shift.**

Rapunzel is naive, but she isn't an idiot. When she shows up in Norway Monday after work, half an hour before it closes, she doesn't miss how Fl - Eugene's looking at her less than usual (which translates to not at all) and Hannah's smile of triumph. Even though she can't connect that dots to anything in particular, she knows that something's wrong. She's been around Eugene enough to know the warning signs.

"Oh, _hi_, Rapunzel!" Hannah says, cutting off Eugene on his way over with the soda she ordered. "How're you?"

"Fine," she answers, unnerved. "You?"

"Wonderful." The falseness of the smiles reminders her a bit too much of Gothel when she did something wrong, which isn't something she wants to acquaint to any of her co-workers. Eugene puts down the sofa in front of her.

"It's on -" he starts to say, but Hannah cuts him off with giggle.

She turns to him instead and says, "You're adorable, darling. Say, Rapunzel, have you ever have an _amazing _night and then the next day nothing can make you feel bad?"

"I guess," she says awkwardly, glancing at Eugene who's definitely avoiding eye contact. "Well, you guys are about to close and no one else is here, so I guess I'll leave. Flynn, do you want -"

He nods and answers, "Yes," before she can finish, startling her. Hannah scowls. "C'mon, I already paid."

"But -"

"Don't worry about it. Bye, Hannah."

"Bye, darling," she says, and giggles again as Rapunzel stands, definitely ready to leave. "I'll see you tomorrow, Rapunzel!"

Once they're outside, Rapunzel feels safe in asking, "Eugene...what happened?"

She doesn't miss it when he cringes. He isn't acting like his usual self at all. "Noth -" he begins, but stops. He tries again, "Look, Rapunzel, I'm a fucking idiot. I mean, Jesus."

"What did you do?"

"I'm not a good friend for you."

For a moment, she can't breathe. Then she manages to get out, "Why?"

"You're eighteen."

"I don't get it."

"That's the - you're too -"

"I'm too _what_, Eugene?" I won't cry, she tells herself. "Juvenile? Clueless? Not your type?"

"No, it's not that," he says. "You're just so sweet and happy that I don't want to ruin you. And that's what I do - I fuck something up and run away because I literally don't know anything else by this point and you're confusing me and you deserve someone better than -"

Rapunzel has never kissed a boy before, so when she pulls him down and presses her mouth against him, she surprises both of them. "Then stop running away, Flynn," she says softly.

He buries his face in her hair and wraps his arms around her. For a while they stand in the alley, just holding each other, and it's official:

She loves him.

.

**The Aftermath. **

They see the fireworks in Norway rather than Magic Kingdom, feet dangling over the water. All the tourists are in Italy or France or Japan and Eugene likes that they're practically alone even if their vantage point isn't the greatest. The restaurant is closed and she sits in between his legs, occasionally sharing her soda with him. He likes her purple dress rather than her Alice one. She looks more like herself this way. He slips his arms around her waist.

When the first of the fireworks explode, she gasps, her eyes transfixed on the sky. Though he's seen this a thousand times, there's something different about it with her here. The lights reflex in her eyes and on her hair and fuck that she's only eighteen.

"I love you," she says suddenly, twisting in his arms.

_don't do it, don't do it, don't -_

"I love you, too, Rapunzel."

For that moment, at least, Before and After blur and everything is perfect.

.

_Wow_, this is long. The sad part? I actually cut parts out. So sorry if certain segments seem a little short. Like, I had to cut out the part where Flynn explains the last family he lives with was Norwegian (Tuva and Peter), which is how he learned how to speak it.

Also! Note on the Flynn being small comment: did you notice that not a single other guy in the movie is shorter than him, or even close to his height except for the violin player? So either everyone else is a giant (which is plausible since it's a Disney movie) or he's like five six. Which I think makes sense since I always imagined Rapunzel around my height (four eleven).

And another thing: does anyone want to do a one on one role play of Tangled over email or AIM? I'd feel stupid asking one of my friends and I can't find anyone else. Heh. Then again, I feel pretty stupid right now too.

Sorry for some of the OOC. And strange insinuations during the dream sequence.

Also, completely random, but my cat's adorable.

Thank you for reading! Reviews are appreciated!


End file.
